


Inktober

by Firestar12



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: (I do not!), Alternate Universe - Bittybones, Because I'm a mess, Bitty Ink, Focused on OCs and Bitties, Gen, Halloween, He causes a lot of trouble, I already missed the first two days, Inktober, Just Something Fun, Of myself?, One prompt a day, The author is my OC, We'll see how this goes though, hope you enjoy!, whatever, writing prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2019-01-08 18:44:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 14,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12259968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Firestar12/pseuds/Firestar12
Summary: A collection of one-shots focused on writing a short story for one prompt a day for the entire month of October. Contains bittybones, OCs, good times, bad times, and mischief.





	1. Inktober

**Author's Note:**

> I know I'm late, but I want to participate in Inktober. I will be posting my first few days in a row and will try to get on schedule. This is my list of writing prompts that I hope to complete by the end of Inktober, though a few may be changed around since I'm still not completely sure about order yet. 
> 
> But if you would like, feel free to use these prompts for your own! Happy Inktober everyone!

1\. Hello There  
2\. Fall Leaves  
3\. Rain  
4\. Picnicking  
5\. Apple Orchard  
6\. Festival  
7\. Lazy Morning  
8\. Stars  
9\. Hurt  
10\. Arachnid  
11\. Best Part of Fall  
12\. Tricks  
13\. Treats  
14\. AU/Reversal  
15\. Alone  
16\. Slime  
17\. Lost  
18\. Spell/Curse  
19\. Tired  
20\. Big  
21\. Creepy Doll  
22\. Phobia  
23\. Black Cat  
24\. Haunted  
25\. Nightmare  
26\. Legend  
27\. Possession  
28\. Witch  
29\. Pumpkin  
30\. Costume  
31\. Halloween


	2. Hello There!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first prompt completed that I should have posted on October 1st, but better late than never!

“Hello!”  


“Hi!”  


“I’m Ink!”  


“And I’m the author.”  


“And it’s our pleasure to welcome you to our Inktober challenge! We hope you’ll enjoy reading what we have to write.”  


“But for now, a bit about ourselves. As I said, I’m the author, I write stories, draw sometimes, go to school, live with my mom, dad, and brother, as well as with two bitties. One of which is mine.”  


“Don’t smirk at me! In case you couldn’t tell, I’m the author’s bitty. She wasn’t very creative in choosing my name when she first adopted me and opted to just leave it as ‘Ink’. I guess I don’t really mind, but even her brother came up with a name for his bitty!”  


“Yeah, but you’re special, Inky. I have yet to see any other bitties like you, so you get to keep your name. Do you want me to change it?”  


“No! I like my name! You can’t change it now, it would be too weird. Sorry, I’m getting off track, stop distracting me!”  


“You distract yourself”  


“Hush! Anyways! A little about myself, I am 3.9 inches tall-”  


“I thought you were 3.7”  


“No, I would like to keep my extra .2 inches, thank you. You already make fun of me enough as it is about my height.”  


“Being small makes you even more adorable. And it’s easier to sneak you into places that don’t allow bitties.”  


“That’s not the point! As I was saying, I’m 3.9 inches tall-”  


“-very defensive about his height-”  


“-very def-wait! Stop doing that! You know I get distracted easily!”  


“Heh”  


“You’re so mean to me. I really love drawing and painting and using every color and medium available to me! I think I’m a great artist! I get along well with my mom-”  


“Oh yeah, I forgot you did that. I’m not a mom, Ink.”  


“You’re right, you’re my mom! I get along well enough with mom even when she teases me. I like writing too, even though that’s more mom’s thing than mine, but I do help her edit and come up with ideas-”  


“If editing counts as running all over the keyboard and not actually helping with the parts of the story I don’t like.”  


“I try my best! But you don’t like it when I get too extensive in my edits even though I’m just trying to help!”  


“Funnily enough you can never find anything wrong with my drawings. Apparently my artwork is better than my writing?”  


“Not true! I think everything you do is fantastic! You just ask for my help a lot more when you’re writing!”  


“Okay, okay. Let’s not argue too much, I’m sure the readers didn’t come here to listen to us go on about stuff they don’t care about.”  


“Alright! Like was said earlier, I’m a bitty! A skeleton bitty to be exact. Or would Ink bitty be more exact? Whatever, I’m all of the above! But being a bitty means I have some magic too! Every bitty does because it’s what keeps us together and every bitty’s magic is special to them. Some stuff one bitty might be able to do doesn’t mean another necessarily can. Even with bitties of the same type, some can’t use their magic to the extent of others or they learn different uses for their magic. It all depends how they’re raised.”  


“Do you want to explain more about bitties in general? That might be something important to get out of the way before we go too far into this challenge.”  


“Sure! Bitties are sentient creatures that some people consider ‘pets’ and other people consider companions, equals, or, in some (weird) cases, more?? I don’t know, mom told me that one day at school someone brought their bitty, even though she didn’t bring me-”  


“Bitties aren’t allowed on normal days, Ink.”  


“-and one of her teachers saw and went on a rant about how bitties are better than people?”  


“Which I could kind of understand. Even the meanest are more sympathetic than some humans.”  


“I don’t think that’s totally true. You’re awesome!”  


“Heh, but yeah, my teacher kind of started going on about how bitties were better, they’re smarter, more talented, have magic, have more sympathy, you name it. It ended up taking us to the end of the class and my teacher finished off by telling us all that we shouldn’t have bitties because we were holding them back from their potential. Needless to say, I think, no one ever brought their bitty into that class again.”  


“I’m glad I wasn’t the one who went with you!”  


“You were just complaining that you didn’t get to go”  


“Well I am still sad that you leave me home all by myself on a daily basis.”  


“You have Red and mom and dad”  


“It’s not the same.”  


“Well the weekend is coming up so we can spend all our time sleeping in together then. For now why don’t you continue telling the readers about bitties? I’m sure they have lives to get back to.”  


“Okay! From what we know, bitties came around a while ago. No one is totally sure when, or at least, we aren’t, because neither mom nor I were alive when it happened, but we’ve heard it was a while ago, maybe even in line with monsters coming above ground? Not sure. Anyways, bitties are small and can vary from anywhere between 2.5 inches to 6 or 7 inches depending on the type. Bitties are also a different class of monster because we need people, humans or other monsters, to take care of us. Some bitties can survive on the streets but it’s mainly thought that that’s completely unacceptable and in most places it’s illegal to abandon your bitty. Bitties also rely, even more so than monsters, on affection and kindness and in some really bad cases bitties can die if they’re deprived of that. Even the meanest bitties want to be cared for, but sometimes it’s hard for them to find a good home because people don’t always want to deal with that. Uh, you can keep going if you want.”  


“Alright. Bitties are usually kept at adoption centers. There are illegal rings, both breeding and fighting and probably more, but there aren’t that many thankfully. If a person decides they want a bitty, they can go to an adoption center and adopt one and usually get most of the necessities there if they’re a first time owner. There is a limit on how many bitties you can adopt, I think it’s up to eight, since there are so many types you could adopt and bitties tend to live for almost as long as a human does. So, once you get a bitty, it’s a pretty long term commitment. I won’t go through all the types because that will take all day but there are skeleton bitties, grillbitties, plant bitties, and possibly a few others that I can’t think of.”  


“And with these there are usually groups under Tale, Fell, Swap, and a few others. Any bitty labeled as a Fell bitty is usually one of the harder ones to care for because they aren’t the nicest. I happen to be one of the others who falls under the ‘Special’ category, whatever that means...”  


“It’s because you’re so special, Inky. Other than that though I think that’s about it? We probably bored our readers to death with this bitty information since they probably already have a good grasp on what it is and how everything works, but, eh, this was just introductions, better to get the boring stuff out of the way first.”  


“And I think we did okay with introducing ourselves as well!”  


“Mhm”  


“So, since that’s over!”  


“We hope you have a good Inktober!”  


“Even though we’re two days late!”  


“Shh! You don’t need to tell them that!”  


“Sorry!”  


“We hope to see you around!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heh, shameless self promotion. The fic where these character first came from! Read it if you want it's not imperative to any of these prompts! [Bitty Tales](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10440996/chapters/23052591).


	3. Fall Leaves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Second prompt done! I think I might post the third and fourth tomorrow and then I'll be all caught up!

It was a nice autumn day, the high heats of summer already having passed while tendrils of colder days yet to come crept into the air. The change in temperature brought along other changes as well. Changes in clothes, changes in seasons, changes in leaves. 

The foliage on the trees lining the author’s street and backyard had exploded into a multitude of warm colors, like they were trying to defy the cold air that rustled through them and made them drift slowly to the ground below. 

The author and Ink loved the change in seasons and fall was both of their favorites. 

Ink absolutely adored the colors on the trees and used any free time he had to paint any and everything that he could think of. 

The author loved watching the leaves slowly change color, going from bright green to shining yellows, crisp oranges, and deep reds all in the span of a few weeks. Even though she had learned a long time ago why the leaves changed color in the fall, it never really lost its magic for her.  


Ink stared up at the trees, eye lights bright stars in his sockets and a wide smile over his teeth as he got lost in the beauty of it all. A leaf floated down, disturbed from its precarious hold by a passing wind, and landed next to him on the grass. It was almost as big as he was. 

And then an avalanche of leaves fell down over him, encasing him in darkness and a familiar decaying leaf smell. 

“Hey!” The bitty called out, a little upset as he heard snickering from his owner somewhere outside of the pile he was buried under. 

Ink stood, the leaves above him light enough to push away and let the warm autumn light stream into the small pile. He pushed away some of the remaining leaves that blocked him from being completely free from the foliage and glared half heartedly at his owner when he saw her.  


The author grinned at Ink, leaning against the rake she should have been using to gather the leaves littering the yard into piles rather than messing with the bitty. “What’s wrong, Ink? You seem a little under the weather.” The author asked, grin widening as her bitty huffed and turned away from her. “Want me to leaf you alone? You do seem pretty buried under your work.”  


“It definitely looks like it’s piling up to me.” The author’s brother, C (since the author would rather not use her brother’s real name for privacy reasons), said with a grin of his own. He had already gathered a decent pile of leaves and his own bitty, an Edgy he had named Red, was spread out over a small pile of leaves of his own, snoozing in the sunlight.  


“he’s gonna end up fallin to the stress of it all soon” Red spoke up, not as asleep as the author had previously thought. He still had his sockets closed while he laid on his pile of leaves but an amused grin had stretched over his sharp teeth.  


The author turned back to look at her own bitty, giving him a teasing smirk and leaning against the handle of the rake once again. “I’ll just stay here and leaf you to your work.” Ink said, shrugging and falling back into the leaves he had just inherited. He heard his owner huff in amusement before going back to work, the sounds of the rake scratching at the grass mingling with the rustle of the leaves in the trees and the twittering of the birds that had yet to go south for the winter.  


Ink liked the fall. He especially loved the leaves and how they changed colors. 

When he had first seen them change color, he had thought it was some powerful magic at work. _But how can a monster change all the colors of the leaves? Even if every monster got together that’s a lot of leaves._

He had asked his owner about it on the first day the leaves began changing. He had seen them before from the adoption center but he had never gotten an answer other than laughter from the other bitties and the owner putting it off as ‘it’s just how it works’. Ink’s owner however had smiled at him and explained that it was how nature worked. _In the colder months, leaves change colors because the tree is getting ready to hibernate and can’t keep its leaves while it does, so they change color and fall off. But in the spring the trees grow new leaves and the whole cycle starts all over again._  


Ink loved learning whatever he could about subjects that interested him and his owner was always happy to tell him or look it up with him when she didn’t know. 

Ink was glad he had gotten such a good owner. 

She had chosen him even when the owner of the adoption center said he wasn’t good for beginners and the other bitties tried to keep him at the back. Even the author’s own parents had shown doubts in letting their daughter get a ‘difficult’ bitty, but she had pushed to get him and neither would have it any other way.  


“Haha!” C laughed loudly, tossing his rake to the side and throwing himself at the pile of leaves he had collected. Red, who was unfortunately right next to the pile, only had time to watch with wide sockets as the leaves rolled towards him in a colorful wave. 

C chuckled when Red teleported out of the leaves and picked leaf pieces off his clothing. Red shot his owner a glare as the author joined in on the shenanigans and jumped on top of her brother.  


Eventually it got later and the author and C finished raking the yard at about the same time the sun started to go down and the air turned cooler. The rakes were put away and the two humans called to their bitties. Ink teleported to the author’s shoulder and laughed at the leaves she still had stuck in her hair from earlier. The author laughed too and Ink helped remove them as they went to the house, another day over.


	4. Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Writing prompt for day three!

The clouds in the sky were a dark, angry gray that held off even the smallest ray of sunshine. Rain was pattering down on the surface in droves, soaking anything that journeyed outside. The cold, biting air made the entire ordeal even less pleasurable as it sapped away any remaining warmth that the rain hadn't.  


The author was one of the few outside, braving the storm to get back home with her and her brother's bitties in tow. Her hood was pulled tightly over her head and she had wrapped her favorite scarf around her neck inside it. This served as Red and Ink's 'nest' as the author had called it, to ride out the storm in. It was warm and dry and both Red and Ink felt a little bad that the author was braving the storm alone. She insisted that she was fine though so the two skeletons didn't argue.  


If the author’s parents had been available, they would have picked her, Red, and Ink up from her friends house. However, they had gone out for the day to visit a college C was interested in. The author ended up staying home since she was already past the point of choosing a college. 

Now she just had to go to college. 

The thought of going off to college intimidated her and it was coming up quickly but she was hopeful that it wouldn’t be too bad. After all, she had at the very least a bare bones plan for what she would be doing, but she couldn’t help but worry where life would decide to take her. How was she supposed to choose what she wanted to do with the rest of her life?!  


Despite the author’s inner turmoil that Ink constantly tried to quell with reassurances that everything would be okay, the author had decided to go out after her family left to see B and Blue, two friends of the author’s and Ink’s. Red, who had gotten stuck at home with the author and Ink because the college his owner was touring didn’t allow bitties on campus ( _what kind of bullshit is that?!_ ), had agreed, however reluctantly, to go with the two to see the author’s friend and that other annoying, too happy bitty.  


Ink got along well with the Baby Blue, he was friendly with everyone and the two had already met before Red got adopted and had become quick friends. Red on the other hand could hardly stand the bitty. He was _always talking_. Ink was annoying too, but even he had some kind of cut off point! Blue just went on and on and on about how his day was or how fantastic his owner was or he made up some exaggerated tale about some adventure he had that Red knew for a fact was completely false. _He did not climb a fucking 'deadly mountain' and defeat some dragon, he fucking climbed up a bookshelf and pushed some stupid stuffed animal off!_

But Red was stuck with the two, because at least walking around and messing with them was better than sitting around and listening to the two humans talk.  


Eventually the visit came to an end and just as the author and Ink had finished saying their goodbyes to their two friends and Red was waiting impatiently to get home, it had started raining. B had offered for them all to stay over and wait out the storm but the author politely declined. 

It kind of sucked now, as the rain made everything damp and cold, but the author powered through.  


Ink asked her multiple times if she was okay, he didn't want her getting sick, but she said she was fine each time and then asked them if they were okay. _You shouldn't be worrying about us!_ Ink argued with her, after all they were warm and dry on her shoulders while she was the one getting the full force of the storm. 

The author only okayed him to death and made sure Red was fine too. He had chuckled and replied that he was 'high and dry', earning a laugh of amusement from the author. _That was pretty good. Guess I'd be getting down and dirty then, huh?_ Red had laughed at that while Ink huffed and stopped his interrogation, knowing he wouldn't get anything other than okays and puns. 

The rain pattered on around them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more to go and I'll be all caught up!


	5. Picnicking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt four complete! I'm finally all caught up!

It was a nice day out. The sun was shining, birds were chirping, leaves were turning wonderful colors of yellow, orange, and red. It was a good day for a picnic. And the author and her family decided to do just that.  


“C’mon, kids! We need to get to the park before all of the good spots are taken!” The author’s father encouraged. He smiled widely at his family as they got ready, pulling on sweatshirts and shoes and gathering last minute items.  


“You could have been helping put together the picnic basket instead of rushing us like always.” The author’s mother said, shooting her husband an unamused look as she finished tying her shoes. She picked the picnic basket up off the table and made her way to the front door.  


“I don’t rush you, you’re all just slow!” This earned a smack on the arm. "Ow!"  


“Hey Red! C’mon, don’t tell me you’re sleeping again!” C called out, looking around for his bitty after slipping a sweatshirt over his head.  


“i ain’t fuckin sleepin, not with your loud mouth around.” C’s hood grumbled. C craned his neck backwards and poked the hood, earning a growl that he snickered at.  


“Alright, we’ve got everyone?” Their father asked, clapping his hands together and looking out at his family.  


“Yep”  


“Think so”  


“Alright! Let’s go!”  


The park wasn’t very far away from the author’s home so she and her family decided to walk there. It was a lovely day after all, why waste it away by driving? 

The family had small conversations about weather, plans for the future, world happenings, and anything else that came to mind. When they reached the park, they found a good spot to set up at. 

The author and her brother spread out the blanket they had brought with them while their parents unpacked the food from their basket and set it out on the blanket. They situated themselves around the center and picked up the different foods and drinks they wanted.  


Ink squeaked in surprise when the author’s mother reached for a sandwich and accidentally grabbed him instead.  


“Oh! Sorry, Ink! I didn’t realize you were there!” She apologized, releasing the bitty and reaching around him to get a sandwich instead.  


“It’s okay”  


“Ink is all bones anyways, he wouldn’t taste very good.” The author said, taking a bite of her own lunch.  


“I’m glad I’m not an appealing meal for you, mom.” Ink commented dryly, looking at the author from the side of his sockets. She smirked and shrugged and Ink rolled his eye lights. He turned back to the food and looked it over. He decided on a quarter of a sandwich that the author’s mother had thought to make for him and Red. It was still a little big but it was much more handleable than a full sized sandwich.  


Ink teleported onto the author’s shoulder. 

“Um, no.” The author said, scooping him up with one hand while the other held her own sandwich. “I don’t want jelly in my hair, thank you very much.”  


“I’ll be careful” Ink said, pouting as he was placed down in front of the author.  


“We don’t eat on people, Ink.” Ink groaned, knowing it probably wouldn’t have ended well anyways (especially now that the jelly from the sandwich was beginning to drip onto his hands). He made himself comfortable on the blanket instead, crossing his legs and leaning back against the author’s shoe while he ate.  


While everyone ate, conversations were picked back up. “So Halloween is coming up…” C mentioned, glancing towards his sister.  


“halloween’s dumb” Red grumbled.  


“You haven’t experienced a real Halloween then.” The author said, eyes lighting up at the subject. Red 'tsked' and rolled his eye lights. “We’re going to go choose pumpkins so we can carve them, we'll be making costumes, going to haunted houses, setting up decorations, you name it. It's going to fun.”  


“I never really knew what Halloween was until I got adopted. It’s my favorite holiday after Christmas.” Ink said, rubbing his fingers together with a frown. He had finished his lunch but his hands had not gotten spared from the overabundance of jelly.  


“yeah, well, i never had the best experiences with halloween so i doubt ya can make me enjoy it. ‘s just another day.” Red said, frowning at the author as she smiled at him.  


“We’ll see, Red. We’ll see.”


	6. Apple Orchard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt five complete! Sorry for the delay, I had a lot more to do yesterday than I had originally anticipated.

“Hey! We still have to go apple picking! If we wait too much longer all the good apples are going to be gone!” The author called out, realizing the lateness of the season. It always happened where her and her family went out just late enough that most of the best apples were gone and only the late bloomers were left. She wasn’t going to let that happen this time!  


“Well, we have time today, if you want to go right now.” The author’s mother said, looking in at her daughter from the kitchen.  


“Really?”  


“Sure, why not?” The author’s mother said with a shrug. She smiled when the author quickly closed her laptop and startled Ink awake.  


“mum, i was tryna sleep” The bitty grumbled, turning over on the couch cushion and drifting back into sleep.  


“Ink, we’re going apple picking.” The author told him, nudging his side with her finger. He swatted it away.  


“go without me”  


“You say that now but you’ll regret it later when we all have a lot of fun and you weren’t there for it.” The author said, knowing very well that he was just tired and would regret not going later.  


“ugh” Ink groaned and pulled himself up from the couch slowly. He rubbed at his sockets and picked up a paint canister that had fallen from his sash when he had fallen asleep. He restored it to its proper place and looked at the author. “Are we going right now?”  


“Yep! So you had better get ready” She said, smiling as she poked him in the stomach. He twisted away from her, stifling a giggle.  


“Okay, I’ll be ready.” Ink agreed and vanished from the spot on the couch.  


The author followed suit more slowly, standing from the couch and stretching before moving down the hallway to her brother’s room. She heard the faint sounds of him playing whatever new video game had him interested while he talked to his friends. It was probably an online game, if the author had to guess. She knocked on the door. “C, we’re going apple picking! We’re leaving in two seconds!”  


“Alright!” Her brother called back, sounding distracted. The author shook her head and continued down the hall to her own room.  


Eventually, when everyone had finally gotten ready (taking much longer than two seconds, mind you), the family left for a nearby orchard. It was one that they had visited multiple times in the past that always had good apples, a large selection of pumpkins to choose from, and incredible apple cider donuts. Granted, these things were all a little expensive, but the author thought it was worth it.  


The author’s father pulled their car into an empty spot in the steadily filling parking lot. The orchard was always really busy around this time of year. 

The author’s father turned the car off and the author and C hopped out, ready to get the day rolling. The smell of hay and apples filled the air with a hint of exhaust left behind from the hay rides that took people down to the orchards and to the pumpkin patch.  


“pretty big” Red commented, looking around at everything from C’s shoulder. The orchards were pretty large, covering a wider expanse than could be seen from the parking lot, and there was still the building that took up a lot of room on its own, the picnic area outside it with people already taking up nearly every open seat, and the pumpkin patch that took up a decent amount of space in front of the further apple trees.  


“Are we choosing pumpkins today too?” Ink asked, bringing his eye lights to his owner after looking at everything. He had been to seen it all before, but he was still excited to get going.  


“Yeah, are we?” The author asked, looking at her parents as they got out of the car and her father locked its doors.  


“We’re here, why not?” Her father answered, shrugging and stowing the keys away into a pocket.  


“Okay, let’s go then or they’ll kick us out again before we get to do everything.”  


The family walked towards the building and entered through its open double doors. The smell of freshly made apple cider donuts invaded the air as they went towards the registers to purchase a bag for the apples they picked. 

“Can we just get the donuts now?” C asked, looking longingly towards the other side of the room where the donuts were being made right in front of the customers already waiting. They smelled really good.  


“Alright, go get two bags. We’ll split them.” Their father agreed.  


“Only two?”  


“Yes”  


“Ugh okay.” C left towards the other side, Red riding on his shoulder and seeming mildly interested in the making of the donuts. It wasn’t everyday you could just watch stuff being made right in front of you.  


“So what size bag do we want?” The author’s father asked, turning his attention back to the choices. There were three options, the smallest being a half peck which could probably fit fifteen to twenty apples, the peck which might fit thirty or a few more, and a bushel which could hold a ridiculously large amount, much more than a normal person who wouldn’t be making apple things for the next month would need.  


“Bushel”  


“No” The author denied, narrowing her eyes at her grinning bitty.  


“A peck is fine” Her mother decided for them, picking up the bag. “We don’t always finish the apples before they go bad anyways.”  


“I’ve got the donuts!” C exclaimed, running back over to his family with two white paper bags. He put them down on the counter for the cashier to ring up while his father placed their bag choice down and got out his wallet.  


When everything was paid for, C grabbed one bag of donuts and the author grabbed the other. “I expect you two to share” Their mother told them, taking up the empty apple bag and following the two towards the back doors where they could wait for the next hayride to go down to the orchards.  


“Okay” 

The author peered into the paper bag, the smell of the six small sugar coated donuts hitting her. She reached in and took three out, handing them off to her father who happily accepted them. She took one for herself and pulled off a piece that she handed to Ink. This was one of the few times he was allowed to eat on her shoulder. He did his best not to make a mess, but the sugar got everywhere and made his hands sticky. He really liked his part of the donut though.  


Outside, the family waited with a group of other customers for the hayride that would bring them to the orchards. 

“Mommy, look at the little skeleton on that boy's shoulder.” A little girl pointed towards Red, tugging on her mother's sleeve to get her to turn around and look too.  


“Honey don't point, that's rude.” The mother reprimanded, glancing back at her daughter. She gave an apologetic smile to C and pulled her daughter closer to her. “And they're called bitties, they're not just tiny skeletons.”  


“They're cool.” The girl whispered, looking at Red in awe. His face heated up at the newfound attention. He had never been called cool before by anyone other than his owner. Even he didn't think he was that cool. But this little girl he had never met thought so.  


Red buried his face into the fabric of his owner’s sweatshirt. C didn't tease him too much about it.  


The tractor came by pulling two cars with hay bales lining the sides and the centers. People riding back disembarked before those waiting piled on. The author took a corner seat and her brother took one across from her, their two parents filling in between them. The tractor started chugging along towards the apple orchards.  


When the tractor came to a stop at the orchards the author and her family got off and roamed the rows of trees with the other people and families that had decided to go apple picking too. “I like this one.” Of course, there was a lot of ‘sampling’ as well, which meant most of the apples chosen from the trees were eaten before they reached the bag. “What do you think, Ink?”  


“It’s really juicy”  


“I can tell, you’re covered in the stuff. You’re going to need a bath when we get home.”  


“Look, Red, this apple is a big as you are!”  


“i ain’t fuckin small if that’s what yer gettin at” The bitty grumped, having returned from his embarrassment. C was holding up a bright red apple that was quite a bit wider than the bitty and just about as tall. C only looked at Red before putting the apple in the bag.  


“Don’t put too many big apples in or we won’t be able to fit as many.” Their father, who had gotten stuck on bag duty, warned. It was already about three quarters full, mainly from their mother who had plans to use apples for a few recipes later on.  


Eventually the bag filled with apples and the author and her family got back on the tractor to go back and choose pumpkins. They got off with a few others at the stop for the pumpkin patch and walked through, looking around and turning a few over. 

“How about this one, huh?” The author’s father asked, hefting a particularly large pumpkin and grinning at the author who happened to be closest.  


“What are you going to make out of a pumpkin that big?” She asked, looking at it skeptically as she held her own small pumpkin. It seemed pretty decent, if not a little oblong and discolored in some places. Most of the discolorations were probably just from dirt that could be wiped off later, but it wasn’t easy to tell.  


“I was thinking a house for Ink and Red. What do you think, Ink? Pumpkin house sound good to you?” Her father asked, grinning at the bitty sitting on the author’s shoulder. The author rolled her eyes.  


“Sure!” Ink agreed, eye lights brightening in excitement. “Can I paint it?”  


“It’s your house, buddy, you can do whatever you want with it. Just let me carve it out for you and you can go crazy.” The author’s father said, chuckling at the bitty’s excitement. Ink nodded quickly in agreement, mind already swirling with ideas for how he would paint the giant pumpkin.  


The sun began dropping lower into the sky, the air turning cooler by the time the author and her family had finished choosing pumpkins and paying for them. They went back to the car and piled their things into the trunk, doing some odd maneuvering to fit all the pumpkins. The large one her father picked went in the back while the author put her smaller one next to it, her brother managed to fit his medium sized pumpkin and Red’s little pumpkin into a corner of the trunk and their mother put her small pumpkin on top of the large one. Ink wanted to bring his own little white gourd that he had chosen out in the car with him and the apples ended up by C’s feet so he could hold them and they wouldn’t spill everywhere.  


The author and her family drove home, pleasant conversation filling the air and mingling with the scent of apples.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This prompt actually took me longer than I expected and I hadn't originally thought I was going to write so much for it, but here it is! Also, I will be trying to get prompt six out today but I can't promise anything. Today and tomorrow are going to be pretty busy for me but by Monday if I'm not already I will hopefully be back on track. Thanks for being patient!


	7. Festival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt six complete! I know it's not really a festival but all I can think of for fall is the fairs that go on.

“The fair is in town today, want to go?” The author’s mother had asked as a passing idea. The fair only came around once a year during the fall and only stayed for about a week or two at most. The author’s family had missed out going to it for the past two years, life keeping them busy, but both parents had the day off and both children were home with nothing better to do, so it was agreed that they would all go to the fair.  


The drive to the fairgrounds was a bit of a long one, but it went by quickly enough. 

When the family pulled into the makeshift dirt parking lot, most of the places to park were already taken up by other cars that had arrived earlier than them. The author’s father followed the directions he was given by the few fair employees directing traffic. They ended up about halfway down the eighth row of cars, a decent ways from the main entrance but not a long walk.  


“So where do we want to go first?” The author asked, looking at a fold-able map that had been given to her family when they first entered the fair and paid for their tickets in. Ink peered down at it from her shoulder.  


“How about we just walk around and see what there is to see? The fair isn’t that big.” Her mother suggested, watching as C was already walking ahead. “And later we can go and watch some horse shows and whatever else there is?”  


“Alright” The author agreed, frowning at the map for a moment before folding it and following after her parents.  


“Ooh, mom can we go there?” Ink asked, tugging lightly on the author’s ear to get her attention. He was looking at a tent that was set up with different art pieces and baubles on display on a fold-able table underneath it. There was an older woman sitting behind the table, watching the crowd pass by.  


“How about we look around more and then we can come back?” The author suggested, her family still walking ahead.  


“Alright” Ink consented, tearing his attention away from the tent and looking around for something else that might catch his eye. The author continued walking, catching up to her family and taking in the fair.  


“get me that” Red demanded, gaze hungry as he stared at a turkey leg more than twice his size. His owner had paused at a food cart once their family had reached the part of the fair specifically catered towards food. The author and their father were looking at a different stall that sold large bowls of fresh cut french fries and their mother had paused at a hot dog cart.  


“One turkey leg please” C ordered, stepping up to the front of the cart and eyeing the leg as well.  


“$12.50” The man working at the cart said gruffly, picking up the leg with a glove and handing it to C. C paid and went over to his father and sister, tearing off a chunk and handing it to his bitty before taking a large bite out of the side. It was pretty good.  


“Hey dad” C’s voice was muffled by the food in his mouth as he joined the two waiting in line for fries. Their father glanced over at him.  


“What? None for me?” He teased, earning an eye roll as C held the leg up towards him. “I’m alright. Are you going to be hungry after that? Because I don’t know if I should get a big bowl of fries or something smaller if it’s only three of us eating them.”  


“I’ll have some.” C assured his father, nodding and swallowing his mouthful of turkey. He took another bite as his father nodded and moved up towards the counter of the stall.  


After buying a large bowl of fries, the author’s and C’s mother rejoined them and they continued on through the fair. The author took a few fries and handed one to Ink. C and Red were still sharing their turkey leg and Red was making a mess of himself with the grease. 

The author stifled a laugh when C attempted to clean the bitty up with a napkin only for Red to swat at his hand and refuse. C shrugged and gave the napkin to Red instead who used it to wipe his face and hands off before shoving it back towards his owner.  


The author and her family passed by more stalls, idly looking into a few and pausing at one that really interested Ink. “Mom! Look at this!” Ink shouted, eye lights starry as he teleported off the author’s shoulder and onto a nearby shelf set up inside the tent. He grabbed onto a large, intricately painted teacup and smiled widely at the author.  


“What are you going to use that for? You wouldn’t even be able to drink out of it, silly.” The author asked, smiling funnily at the little skeleton. She moved over to the shelf and picked the cup up, Ink letting her take and inspect it.  


“I want to sleep in it!” He answered, smile wider again as she turned the porcelain over in her hands.  


She looked back at him, that funny smile still on her face. “You want to sleep in a teacup”  


“Yes” Ink said, nodding seriously.  


“Weirdo” The author muttered under her breath, shaking her head. She handed the cup back to Ink, having finished inspecting it. “How about you look around more first?” She asked, looking along the shelves Ink was on and spotting more tea things, not just cups, lining them. 

She looked back to her bitty who looked a little downcast. “Then you can know for certain what kind of cup you want. Maybe you can test them and see what fits best or if you like a different design or something.” The author suggested, gesturing along the shelves.  


Ink followed her hand, looking along the shelf he was on before turning back to her with a smile. “Okay!”  


In the end Ink ended up getting a different teacup than the one he had originally found. The one he chose was a plain white one that was sturdier than some of the delicate cups and fit him well. Ink hoped to paint it when they got home, that way he could make a design to his liking. That and the white cup he chose cost a lot less than some of the really intricately designed and more delicate ones.  


Red thought the idea of any bitty wanting to sleep in a teacup was stupid, but Ink thought otherwise and lectured him about it while his family walked around and enjoyed their time at the fair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one really kicked my butt and did not want to work with me so I apologize for quality and my tardiness in completing all of these. I'm hoping I'll get back on track soon. Writing a prompt a day is a lot harder than I thought! Especially when life gets in the way so much. Oh well! I'll continue to do my best!


	8. Lazy Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt seven complete!

The author rolled over in her bed, half asleep and fighting off wakefulness. She cracked open her eyes and looked at her alarm clock. _Nine o’clock._ Not a bad time to wake up, it was actually the time she preferred. It wasn’t too early in the morning that the sun was still asleep but it wasn’t too late either where it felt like the morning was wasted away. Weekends were great times just to relax and sleep in. 

The author loved weekends.  


Thinking this, she rolled back over in her bed, pulling her covers tighter around her and pulling the sleeping form of Ink closer to her. _He’s so small._ The author smiled drowsily down at him and pecked his skull. She would protect him. She would never let anything hurt him.  


The author let her eyelids drift closed and listened to the steady hum of Ink’s magic. Even for a being so small it was still powerful enough that she could feel and hear it. It was almost like a heartbeat, constant, pulsing, peaceful. It had such a soothing melody and pulled the author towards the brink of sleep once again.  


Ink stirred just as the author began to drift off. She cracked open an eye and looked down at him as he shifted closer to her, moving closer to the crook of her elbow and nestling in against it. The author smiled again. She would never stop loving Ink. Even when they had their disagreements she loved him too much to ever be really mad with him. He always meant well and the author knew that. 

The author pecked Ink's skull again and let her eyes drift close once again, sleep finally overtaking her and holding her captive in her dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Incredibly short, I know, but this is how my own lazy mornings go so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	9. Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt eight complete!

There was a meteor shower in the forecast for the night and the author and Ink decided to go and see if they couldn’t watch it. 

The author bundled up in a coat, pants, and boots, wrapping her scarf around her neck so Ink would be warm as well. 

The night’s cool air greeted her and Ink as they entered the outside world. It was silent other than a few crickets and rustlings of small animals moving around in the woods near the author’s house. It surprisingly wasn’t that dark out though. 

The moon was full and bright in the sky and lit up the street that the author lived on in a silver glow. The stars were shining brightly as well, seemingly endless as Ink looked up in wonder at the night sky.  


The author moved away from her house, leaving the yellowish glow of the lights behind and moving into the back of her yard. She settled herself on the grass, condensation making it cool and wet to the touch. The author didn’t mind as she laid back, smiling when Ink fell backwards from her shoulder to the ground with her. He took the end of her scarf and wrapped himself in it, getting closer to his owner’s neck while he looked up at the sky.  


The author pointed out different constellations that she knew of to Ink. She didn’t know the stories behind all of them, but Ink helped weave fantastic tales for each. Both agreed that they liked their versions much better than whatever the original stories were.  


The cool air nipped at the author’s face, dusting it a light pink as she watched the stars. Ink pulled himself closer to her, magic humming against her throat. She stifled a laugh at the sensation and Ink smiled worriedly up at her, wondering if she would want him to move away from her. She didn’t seem to mind though, eyes still on the stars as she quieted and a content smile playing out over her mouth. 

The author let out a quiet gasp and pointed up to the sky. Ink followed her finger, looking just in time to see a ball of light passing by overhead. It disappeared over the horizon and Ink forgot entirely about his worries as he watched the beginnings of the meteor shower with his owner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just like writing short things, don't I? Sorry for the length, not sure if the next is going to be longer or not.


	10. Hurt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt nine complete! In which we get a glimpse into Ink's past.

A familiar bell chimed over the door of the adoption center, signaling the arrival of yet another customer. It was getting later in the day and most of the bitties were tired out, but a few still moved up to the walls that penned them all in the center to greet the customer. Those already back in their tanks didn’t even give the newcomer a second glance.  


Ink watched as the customer, a young adult it seemed like, went up to the counter. The owner greeted them and talked with them about stuff Ink couldn’t hear. Maybe they wanted to adopt? Ink tried to fight back the hope he felt, but a small smile still broke out on his face. “the hell’re you smilin for, freak? no one’s gonna adopt you over us _regular_ bitties.”  


“Edge, that’s mean!” Was all that was said in response to the other’s remark. No one stood up to defend Ink. He felt his smile slip a little.  


The customer nodded at something the owner said before both moved over towards the pen in the center. Ink migrated with the others towards the side where the boy crouched down and greeted him like the rest. His smile returned piece by piece until he found himself happily chatting with the boy along with a few of the others. 

“So, how would you feel about living in a dorm with three other guys? They can be a little rough and tumble sometimes but I don’t think they’d hurt anyone.” The boy asked, looking over the bitties that had remained to talk with him. His eyes landed on Ink and he smiled at him.  


“I THINK IT WOULD BE VERY FUN! I LOVE MAKING NEW FRIENDS!” A Baby Blue answered. The others echoed the sentiment, all hopeful that they would be the one to be chosen to get taken home.  


“How about you?” The boy singled Ink out, looking pointedly in his direction and tilting his head curiously.  


“Oh! I would-”  


“Oh, I don’t think I would adopt that one if I were you.” The owner cut Ink off as she squatted on the ground next to the boy and let her gaze linger on the artistic bitty. Ink’s sockets widened as she looked back to the boy.  


“Why not?” The boy asked, confused as he looked back at the owner.  


“He’s a… how should I put this? Special case?” She said, looking sadly back down at Ink. He couldn’t speak, his words were stuck in his throat as the owner ruined any chance he had to be adopted.  


“Oh” The boy said, a hard to read expression on his face as his eyes flickered back down to the stunned bitty. His gaze moved off Ink and continued on along the line of others who were patiently waiting for Ink to be weeded out as competition. They had innocent smiles on and waited quietly, knowing the artist had never stood a chance. 

“Well, what about the rest of you all? Does living in a dorm sound good?” 

Without any further explanation on the owner’s part, Ink was no longer in the race to be adopted. The bitty felt tears well in his sockets and stubbornly fought them off. He wouldn’t cry in front of the others.  


Ink went back to his tank and cried. A Papy had ended up being adopted, _figures_ , Ink thought bitterly. He shoved himself further into a corner of what the owner lovingly called his 'home'. He pulled his scarf around the bottom half of his face and buried himself in it, trying to make himself as small as possible. Tears stained it and he could hear the others talking happily about their hopes of being adopted. 

_Who do you think would be the perfect owner?_  


_Oh, anyone I suppose, as long as they’re nice._  


Thoughts of who Ink might like to be adopted by tried to enter the bitty’s mind but he shook them away. What good would it do anyways? He wouldn’t get adopted. He never would.  


The owner of the shop closed up and called out an all too cheery goodbye to the bitties that were still awake. A few returned the sentiment and the bell jangled over the door as it closed and was locked. 

Ink listened to the sounds of the others winding down to go to sleep, the minimal items in his tank the only things to keep him company. He pulled himself deeper into the fabric of his scarf and fought back a fresh wave of tears.


	11. Arachnid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt ten done! Sorry for the wait, I've been a little lazy lately.

The author and Ink sat on the couch, the TV on in the background as the author stared blankly at the new doc, cursor blinking on the empty page. She was supposed to be writing an essay for school, but no inspiration was striking her.  


She had been staring at the blank page for over half an hour at this point.  


“Mom, just start, you know that’s the hardest part.” Ink told her, breaking the silence and looking back at the author with a frown. He had sat with her many other times as she tried to get the first sentence just right. The backspace haunted him.  


“I don’t know what I want to write yet.” The author replied, seeming distracted. Her eyes were unfocused as she stared at the laptop in front of her.  


“What have you been doing for the past thirty minutes?! It doesn’t take this long to come up with an idea!”  


“I was thinking about kittens.”  


“Oh my God” Ink groaned, burying his head in his hands. “Why? Why were you thinking about kittens?” His voice was muffled and sounded severely disappointed.  


“They’re adorable” The author answered, a smile tugging at her lips as she came back to the real world and looked at her disappointed bitty. He turned back to her with a glare.  


“Stop it. Do your essay. I’m supposed to be the one who can’t focus on stuff, not you.”  


The author groaned and threw her arms back, closing the lid of the laptop in the process. “I’m really just not feeling it.” She said, removing the laptop from herself and putting it on the couch cushion as she stood.  


“This is due tomorrow!” Ink shouted at her, incredulous now.  


“I’ll do it later.”  


“I can’t believe you. You always complain about not having enough time to do stuff but this is why! You don’t do stuff until it’s basically due!”  


“Yeah” The author said, nodding and glancing back down at the laptop. There was a small black spider on the lid. She grimaced and picked Ink up, moving the confused bitty to her shoulder before going towards the front door. She picked up a flip flop lying by the door and went back to the couch. 

The spider was still there.  


“Don’t kill it” Ink, ever the shoulder angel (or demon, depending ( _I am not a demon!_ )) said, noticing the spider.  


“It entered my domain, it doesn’t deserve to live.” The author replied, narrowing her eyes at the spider and stepping closer, moving the flip flop in front of it. She slid the flip flop towards the spider and began pushing it off her laptop. It landed on the couch and she slammed the footwear down on the bug. 

Ink huffed as the author checked and made sure the arachnid was dead before tossing the flip flop back to the door and going into the kitchen to get a paper towel and remove the carcass.  


“Hey, check this guy out, huh?” The author’s father said, looking at something on the floor while the author threw the paper towel away.  


“What is it?” The author asked, moving over to her father and looking over his shoulder curiously. Another spider, larger than the one that the author had just killed, was scurrying quickly across the floor. 

Her father stepped on it before it could get under the fridge. 

“Jeez, I just killed one too. Must have some kind of infestation.”  


“Don’t say that, it was just coincidence.” Her father said, shaking his head and picking up the spider to throw it away.  


“Gross” The author commented, wrinkling her nose.  


“It’s just a spider. You wanna touch it?” Her father said, grinning and dangling the dead bug out by one of its legs.  


“No! Leave me alone, I’m going back to the couch.” Her dad chuckled as the author left the kitchen.  


“Don’t start your essay off with ‘[Book Title], written by [Author]’ that’s so boring to read, how do you expect to hook your readers?” Ink criticized, tapping the screen of the laptop as he read over the author’s first few sentences.  


“It’s such a boring subject” The author groaned, rubbing her face.  


“Just because it’s a boring subject doesn’t mean you should write a boring essay, that’ll make me want to read it even less. If you get your readers invested in the first sentence they’ll be more likely to stick your essay out until the end.” Ink said, looking back at the author. His face went blank. “Uhh”  


“What?” The author asked, confused by the sudden change.  


“You have a spider on your head.”  


“What?!” The author swiped at her head, fingers brushing by a bump that wasn’t a part of her head. She frantically swatted it off, just because bugs didn’t bother her normally didn’t mean she was okay with them sitting on her head.  


A medium brown spider fell onto the laptop next to Ink. “Don’t throw it at me!” Ink squeaked, jumping and teleporting onto the author’s shoulder. The author shook the bug off before it could do anything and stepped on it.  


“That’s the third one in an hour, they must be coming from somewhere!” The author called out to her father, standing from the couch as goosebumps crawled up her skin. She went into the kitchen where it would hopefully be a little safer from whatever type of spider invasion this was.  


“I already got two more, I think we might have a bit of a problem on our hands.” The author’s father said, looking concerned. “Good thing your mother and brother aren’t home, lord knows they’d be running out of the house at this point.” The author chuckled weakly at this.  


“We need to find out where they’re coming from.” The author’s father muttered, looking around the kitchen.  


“Maybe it’s just from everywhere” The author suggested, following after her father who started moving to different corners.  


“Mm” Her father hummed. 

They only stumbled across another small black spider in the kitchen. They moved into the living room next. Ink bravely decided to teleport off the author’s shoulder, helping in the search for more pesky arachnids.  


“Ah!” A spider jumped at Ink when he accidentally stumbled across it’s web in a corner of the living room that was rarely used. 

It was dead before it even got close to him.  


“Damn, Ink, I thought you were the one who didn’t want to kill spiders.” The author whistled, moving over to the corner and spotting the little spider skewered with multiple small bones that jutted out of the ground.  


“I didn’t mean to!” Ink defended, slowly uncovering his face and eyeing the spider cautiously. He turned to frown at the author. “It tried attacking me, I was only defending myself.”  


“Alright, bud. You wanna keep searching for more on your own or ride out the storm with me?” The author asked. Ink glanced back at the dead spider and then at the author. He teleported onto her shoulder and she smiled.  


“Honey, don’t look now, but there’s a giant spider on the ceiling above you.” The author’s father said, voice low as he stood on top of the couch and stared upwards. The author froze and turned her head upwards slowly. 

On the ceiling was a large, fuzzy brown spider, an almost bursting white sack hanging from its rear end. Ink squeaked and buried himself against the author’s neck, trying to make himself as small as possible. 

The author shuffled slowly to the side, watching the spider as it sat still on the ceiling. 

“Go get me a bowl” The author’s father spoke up, eyes still on the spider. The author nodded and moved quickly out to the kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets and grabbing a cereal bowl. It would have to be thoroughly washed later.  


The author went back into the living room, looking up to the ceiling where the spider hadn’t moved, and giving it a wide berth as she made her way to the couch. She handed the bowl off to her father and backed away, watching intently. 

The author’s father turned the bowl in his hands, looking up at the spider, before stepping carefully onto the coffee table. 

He slammed the bowl upwards but the spider was quicker and jumped before it could get captured. “Aah!” The author’s father jumped off of the table and the author jumped onto the couch, frantically searching the ground for the missing arachnid.  


“There it is!” Ink shouted, pointing towards the TV stand where the large spider was trying to hide. The author’s father lunged for it and slammed the bowl down.  


“Did you… get it?” The author asked, shifting on the couch and looking over cautiously. The author’s father slid the bowl along the ground.  


“Yep, got it. Now we just need to get it out of the house. Can you get a piece of paper to slide under the bowl? I’ll go chuck it outside.”  


“I’ve got it!” Ink volunteered, teleporting off the author’s shoulder before either could argue.  


“Well hopefully that’s the last of them.” The author said, stepping down from the couch and moving only slightly closer to her father.  


“Hope so.” Her father nodded in agreement. 

Ink returned with a sheet of paper and handed it off to the author’s father. He took it and slipped it under the rim of the bowl quickly. He stood slowly, picking the bowl up off the ground and shifting his free hand to hold the paper to the bottom. 

The author followed him to the front door and opened it for him. He chucked the spider outside and the author closed the door behind it.  


“Good riddance.”  


“Tell me about it. I’ll probably be feeling creepy crawlies for the rest of the night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I've decided that I'm going to skip prompt eleven, the Best Part of Fall one, just because I think my earlier prompts have kind of already showcased some great parts of fall. I will continue with not so regularly scheduled delayed prompt writing though, so don't worry about that.


	12. Tricks and Treats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts twelve and thirteen complete, just because I thought they went hand in hand. Also, sorry for quality this chapter, I really had no idea how to go about writing this without going down the trick or treat route. I guess the lesson learned though is tricks don't get you treats.

The author heard snickering from somewhere outside the kitchen where she and Ink were working on making an apple pie. After all, they had all those excess apples that weren’t being used after apple picking so why let them go bad? She frowned and peeked out around the corner and into the living room. 

No one was there. 

Her frown deepened, it was probably just C playing his video games again. 

The author shook her head and went back to the counter where Ink was standing precariously on the edge of the mixing bowl adding a small spoonful of salt to the mixture. The author had made the decision not to let him handle any of the larger measurements of ingredients after a mishap with the flour. 

Both of them were still covered in the fine white powder.  


After all the ingredients were added to the bowl, the author transferred it to a pan and heated it, stirring constantly and making sure Ink was a safe distance away from the stove. The smell of the mixture filled the air. 

When that was done the author turned the heat off and moved the pan to a backburner, moving to help Ink smooth out the premade crust in the pie tin. He had done a surprisingly good job on his own and the author agreed to let him put the extra crust over the top in whatever kind of design he wanted to try.  


When all was said and done, the author and Ink had created their pie, a beautiful lattice work design covering the top of it, and the smell of it baking filled the kitchen and made the two hungry. It still had to _finish_ baking of course, the author wasn't about to get sick from eating undercooked dough, so she decided it would be best to distract herself. Ink said he was fine in the kitchen, he wanted to watch the pie and make sure it turned out okay (the author knew he was just going to end up torturing himself like that, but didn't argue against it) so the author went out into the living room, intent on getting some work done on one of her stories. 

When she sat down on the couch, however, a loud farting sound made her jump back up.  


“Hahaha! Got ‘er!” The author whipped her head around to see her brother and Red laughing their asses off in the corner of the living room and hallway. The author rolled her eyes and chucked the whoopie cushion at C, it bouncing harmlessly off him to the ground. 

She sat down again and noticed her brother go completely silent as she did so. 

_Pbffft_

She stood and glared at her brother, noticing Red had disappeared from his shoulder. She looked to the couch and saw the bitty standing on the arm of it. Red shrugged, a shit eating grin plastered on his face.  


“Fine, guess you two don’t want pie then.” The author said, schooling her face into neutrality and shrugging.  


“The pie’s done, mom!” Ink called from the kitchen before either could reply. The author noticed a slightly panicked look light up C's face and she shrugged again as she left for the kitchen. The smell of the pie wafted throughout the house.  


“Hey wait, no! I want pie!” C called out, hurrying to stand and follow after his sister. 

Red huffed and teleported into the kitchen, both him and his owner getting completely ignored as the author took the pie out of the oven. The smell hit them full force and made both of them hungry. C's stomach growled and the author smirked.  


“I’m sure mom and dad will love to try some, right, Ink?” The author asked, turning her back on C and Red as she smiled at her bitty.  


“Yep! I can’t wait to try it too! It smells really good!” Ink agreed, smiling happily back as the author put the pie on the kitchen window’s ledge, opening it to let it cool. She smiled again and stretched her arms over her head, cracking her back in the process. 

"Welp, I'm worn out from that, how about we go take a nap while it cools?" The author said, sliding the oven mitts off her hands and placing them on the counter as she looked at Ink. 

"Okay! I'm kind of tired too. Hopefully it will be cool enough to eat when we wake up." Ink agreed, nodding. He teleported up to the author's shoulder and they left the kitchen. 

C and Red heard the author's bedroom door click closed and shared a glance. "not the sharpest tool in the shed, eh?" Red asked, breaking out into a smirk with his owner. They both moved over to the pie sitting unprotected on the windowsill, C sliding the oven mitts onto his hands in the process. 

The author laid in her bed with Ink, looking at the ceiling and listening. Ink kept giggling beside her, making her smile as she waited. Their pie was sitting on her own windowsill, thanks to some quick thinking from Ink, and the pie that her brother and Red had undoubtedly 'stole' was one Ink had created with his magic. 

The author had to admit, Ink had some pretty impressive magic. Not only was it geared towards any artistic medium she could think of, but he could basically create anything up to a certain size out of just his magic. 

That's not to say that they were exact copies though. 

The author laughed as C and Red shouted out in surprise and disgust, most likely both getting mouthfuls of ink from the pie they had taken.


	13. AU/Reversal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fourteen complete. I was so close to making it on time! Oh well, I had so much fun writing this one, I was really looking forward to it the moment I put it on my list.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got the idea for this from Rivethart's [Bitty Reader Adventures](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6259684/chapters/14343064). She was the one who created the bitty reader AU after all (where you, the reader, are the bitty) so if it interests you definitely check it out because she wrote some awesome stuff and has a great universe going on.

It was a quiet day in Rivethart’s Itty Bitty Reader Shelter, customers came and went, the Readers chatted with them, and a few even got adopted by the much larger monsters that were interested in caring for them. 

Rivethart, the owner, checked up on the Readers from time to time when the shelter wasn’t so busy and she had a spare moment. Many greeted her and made conversation with her as she made her rounds.  


“How have you been, Miss Rivethart?” A small Reader with a mess of brown hair on their head that they were constantly pushing out of their eyes asked. They were wearing a small orange sweater which meant they fell under the category of “Jumper”, an active type of Reader. 

There were a lot of Reader’s with similar sweaters and even more with different colored sweaters. Each Reader in the shelter wore one, and each sweater showed their core trait. There was orange for active Readers (called “Jumper”), red for aggressive Readers (“Aggressive”), blue for happy Readers (“Joy”), yellow for lazy Readers (“Dreamer”), green for timid Readers (“Shy”), purple for artistic Readers (“Artistic”), and pink for curious Readers (“Curious”).  


“I’ve been doing well, thank you.” The deer monster replied, smiling down at the Reader. “How have you been?”  


“I’m doing okay!” They replied enthusiastically, jumping up and down in place. “But Miss Rivethart, how long does it take to get adopted?” A few Readers nearby glanced at them with wide eyes before they broke into furious whispers amongst each other. That question was like a taboo. You didn’t just ask when you were going to get adopted. This question especially brought about bad thoughts for the more timid Readers and those who had been in the shelter for far too long.  


“Oh, honey, I’m afraid I don’t know the answer to that.” Rivethart said, kneeling down next to the center pen and looking sadly down at the small Reader. “All Readers get adopted at different times, it’s not something you can force.”  


“Oh” The jumper hung their head. “Sorry”  


Rivethart reached down into the pen and lightly brushed their cheek with her thumb, a sad smile playing across her muzzle. “It’s okay, I’m positive all of you will get adopted at some point. Just try not to rush it, okay?”  


“Okay, I won’t, Miss Rivethart.”  


“Good” Rivethart said, nodding and standing again. Her expression brightened and she smiled down at the Readers gathered in the center pen that dominated the shelter. “Now, how about we eat some lunch?”  


One Reader, still in her tank or ‘home’ as some of the others liked to call them, was staring blankly at a small sheet of paper. She was holding a small piece of graphite in her hand and was wearing a purple sweater that was slightly dirtied from accidentally smudging some of her stories and sketches with her sleeves. The doll desk and chair she had been given weren’t the most comfortable, but it was better than sitting on the ground and the owner had a lot of other Readers to tend to too, so she was grateful for what had been given to her.  


A finger tapped lightly on the glass of the artistic Reader’s tank and the Reader inside jumped, shocked from her stupor as she looked at the owner with wide eyes. Rivethart smiled apologetically at her. “Sorry, but it’s lunch time, do you want to eat?”  


“Yes please” The Reader nodded, pushing away from her chair and leaving the graphite with her blank piece of paper. 

Rivethart smiled and pulled the tank away from the wall, reaching her hand down inside it and holding her palm flat against the ground. The Reader moved onto it and grasped her fingers when they wrapped lightly around her and lifted her out of the tank. There was that odd swaying sensation of the monster walking and the Reader watched as the ground passed below her before she was gently placed down in the center pen. A few Readers greeted her and talked together while they waited for Rivethart to get the rest of the Readers and serve lunch.  


After lunch was served, the artistic Reader decided to stay out with the others in the center pen. She found a comfortable corner and found a small book that she took from a small pile of others and dragged with her to her designated comfy spot. The ground was lined with blankets and pillows so really anywhere the Readers wanted to go within the pen was pretty comfortable, but corners seemed to be a favorite of those who wanted some time alone.  


The bell above the door to the shop jingled and a few Readers moved over to the sides of the pen to greet the new arrival. The artistic Reader looked up from her book to see a skeleton monster looking around the store in awe, the lights in his eyes changing each time he blinked. The artistic Reader tilted her head at this and studied the monster. They didn’t get too many skeleton monsters around and this one seemed to be pretty outlandish with the giant paintbrush strapped to his back, a sash of colors hanging across his chest, and a large brown scarf wrapping around his neck, not to mention his… interesting choice in clothing.  


It seemed the other Readers were just as interested in this new monster, all of them staring at the skeleton unabashedly. 

“Hello, sir, can I help you today?” Rivethart greeted the monster, smiling politely as she went up to him.  


The skeleton blinked, eye lights changing shape and color as he seemed startled out of whatever stupor he had gone into. He looked at the deer monster, seeming uncomprehending at first before he smiled. “Sorry, I’m just looking for a Reader. A lot of friends of mine told me that I should get one, so here I am.” He said, chuckling and rubbing the back of his neck.  


“Of course, this is what the shelter is for after all.” The skeleton chuckled again and Rivethart smiled. “Do you know anything about Readers?” She asked.  


The skeleton shook his head, his hand dropping back to his side. “Not really, no.”  


Rivethart nodded with a small smile. “That’s perfectly fine. Not a lot of monsters know a lot about Readers when they first become interested in adopting. I can tell you more about them if you’d like before you start looking.”  


“Oh, sure, that’d be great, thanks.” The skeleton agreed, smiling again. Rivethart nodded and gestured for him to follow her back to the counter where she filed all the adoptions with the customers before they took their Readers home.  


“That skeleton looks pretty weird, huh?” A few Readers whispered amongst themselves, casting glances towards the counter where the colorful skeleton was nodding enthusiastically to whatever Rivethart was saying to him.  


“Yeah, do you think he’s an artist?” Another asked, eyeing the large brush hanging from his back. “I don’t think he’d be carrying that giant brush around otherwise.”  


“I don’t know, do all artists wear such weird clothes?” A different Reader asked, scrunching their nose.  


“Maybe”  


“Maybe he’s going to adopt an artistic Reader then.” The small group looked around at their purple sweatered friends. “But the question is which one?”  


“So, are you looking for any specific trait in a companion?” Rivethart asked the skeleton, who had given his name as Ink.  


The skeleton’s eye lights changed briefly into a blue question mark and an orange circle. “I haven’t really thought about that.” He paused, looking down at the pamphlets and information sheets Rivethart had given to him. “I guess an artistic Reader wouldn’t be bad?” He said, looking back up at the deer monster unsurely.  


“I knew it!” Both monsters heard a small voice shout out triumphantly and they looked towards the center pen where a Reader in a pink sweater stared back at them, hands on her hips and a proud look on her face. She realized she had been caught and her eyes widened, hands falling as she ran back to her friends.  


Rivethart shook her head with a small smile, watching as the Readers conversed with one another, all taking turns to glance at the larger skeleton monster. Ink turned back to Rivethart in confusion and she shook her head. “Don’t worry about them, they get all riled up whenever someone new comes in. They don’t mean anything by it.”  


“Oh, alright” Ink said, glancing back and catching a few Readers staring at him. They looked away once they had been caught, faces reddening. Ink smiled and turned back to Rivethart. “Is there anything else I need to know?”  


The artistic Reader was still reading in her corner, though she did catch bits and pieces of the other Readers’ conversations. Most of them were about the skeleton, as was to be expected, whenever a new monster came in that was all anyone could talk about. It seemed to the artistic Reader that everyone thought the skeleton monster was going to choose an artistic, after all, according to the curious who had been eavesdropping earlier, that was what he said.  


The artistic Reader listened as the others talked about which Reader he would be most likely to choose. Someone said it would most likely be one of the few who focused on drawing and painting the most and the artistic Reader could see that, the skeleton did have that giant brush on his back, meaning he was probably more inclined towards painting than writing like she was.  


The little artistic Reader thought it was kind of dumb that she and the others like her were all grouped under the “Artistic” category. Many potential owners always seemed a little disappointed when they learned that artistic didn’t just mean painting and drawing, but also included writing and music. Of course there were the few monsters who were absolutely thrilled to adopt a musically inclined or writing inclined Reader, but the artistic Reader thought they should have been called “Creative” or something that grouped the different categories together better instead of making everyone think artistic meant drawing.  


“Hello!” The artistic Reader jumped as the loud greeting startled her out of her thoughts. “Heh, sorry, I guess I would sound louder to someone so small.” She looked up to see the skeleton monster looking down at her, his eye lights a bright yellow star and a blue upside down heart. He smiled at her and tilted his skull. “Were you reading something good?” He asked, eye lights moving down to the book the Reader had opened under her.  


“Uh, not really.” She said, hastily closing the book and shoving it to the side. She stood up with her hands clasped behind her back and a flush rising on her cheeks. She noticed the skeleton frown slightly.  


“Sorry, um, I know you’re probably looking for an artistic Reader, but, um, I like to write. I’m not much of an actual artist, we’re just all grouped under the same category.” She said, feeling nervous. She had never really been talked to much before, other than a few customers greeting her or showing brief interest in her. She also knew that she didn’t want to waste the skeleton’s time, so if he wanted a Reader more inclined to painting then it would be better that he knew she wasn’t what he was looking for.  


“Hmm” The skeleton hummed, seeming thoughtful, and the artistic Reader took it as her cue to back away. He made her pause when he looked back down at her. “Well, what do you like to write about?” The skeleton asked, sitting down on the ground outside the pen and leaning over the barrier keeping all the Readers in. He tilted his skull curiously again and the small Reader was taken aback. _But he was supposed to be interested in the ones who actually painted. Not her._ She felt the eyes of the other Readers on her back, the whispering silenced for now as they all listened intently.  


“Um, uh, just… stuff.” _God, how lame did that sound? Stuff? What is stuff?_ The Reader berated herself, gritting her teeth as she smiled awkwardly.  


The skeleton smiled, gaze bordering on sympathy. He probably realized how awkward she was making this for herself. No one had asked her what she wrote about before, what was she supposed to say? “Do you like fiction or non-fiction?” He asked her, giving her a much easier question to answer than what she liked to write about.  


She let out a breath. “I like fiction.”  


“Why?”  


The Reader blinked, brow furrowing. She hadn’t expected the question. “I guess because then I can come up with anything and it doesn’t matter if it makes sense or not because it’s not real.” She said, looking up at the skeleton as he smiled down at her. “Do you like to write?” She could have misjudged his character beforehand, maybe he was looking for a writer and the big brush on his back just threw everyone off.  


The skeleton blinked, eye lights changing shape and color. He seemed thoughtful. “I like writing sometimes, but I’m more of an ‘artist’.” He put air quotes around the word, grimacing for a reason the Reader didn’t know. “Drawing, painting, sculpting, you know, the whole lot attributed with us artsy types.” He smiled a little at this, head tilting. “Even though I think anything creative is art, so I don’t think it’s right to think that people who draw are the only artists out there. Writing and music are fantastic. Where would we be without stories and music? Wait, I’m getting off track, what was the question?” The skeleton cut himself off, chuckling awkwardly as he looked at the Reader.  


The Reader smiled and tilted her head. “So you like to write?”  


“Oh, heh, yeah, I do.” The skeleton said, cheekbones flushing the colors of the rainbow. One Reader ‘oohed’, only making the flush on the monster’s cheeks darken. “I just wish I had more time to write. Or the attention for it. I do love to read what other people write though. I think it’s incredible how authors can make worlds just from words on paper.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck again and looking away in embarrassment.  


The Reader smiled again. “What do you like to draw?”  


The skeleton’s eye lights lit up. “I like drawing everything! I think landscapes are some of my favorite things to paint though, there’s just so many different colors that I can use.”  


“Landscapes are great!” Another Reader with a purple sweater, this one a bit more paint stained than smudged with gray, exclaimed from within the small group that had congregated in the center. The skeleton smiled at them and nodded his agreement, eye lights shining. 

The other Readers took this as their cue to slowly move closer to the wall where the monster was sitting cross legged, watching them all with a smile. “What kinds of paint do you like to use?” The artistic Reader asked, stepping closer and looking up at the skeleton.  


The Reader Ink had been talking to backed away, smiling a little ruefully as the more art inclined Reader talked to him. A few other artists talked with him as well and a few actives and joys tried their luck too. 

The purple sweatered Reader pulled her discarded book away towards a different corner, unnoticing of the skeleton’s gaze following her. She nodded to a timid Reader who was bundled in their sweatshirt, watching the large skeleton with big eyes. They returned the nod weakly, eyes flashing over to the purple sweatered Reader before turning back to the monster who was conversing with the others again. They noticed that his eyes kept flickering to the artistic Reader who had dragged her book to a corner closer to the entrance, further away from the group gathered by the monster.  


A few other customers entered the shop while Ink talked with the Readers, most of them artistic ones, that had decided to stay around him. The rest had either left or went to talk with the other customers that had shown up, maybe hoping for more of a chance to get adopted by them. Eventually the skeleton managed to get away from the crowding Readers and moved quietly over to the first one he had talked with.  


“Hi again” The Reader startled, jumping from her book and looking backwards, seeing the artistic skeleton from earlier grinning down at her. “Sorry if it felt like you got neglected” His eye lights flickered over to the other Readers who had all gone to try their chances with the few other customers around the pen. “But, if you’re not opposed to it, I think I’d like to adopt you. If you’re okay with it?”  


The Reader froze. She had expected any outcome _other_ than this. In fact, she had been almost positive he the skeleton would end up adopting a different artistic Reader. But here he was, right in front of her, saying _he_ wanted to adopt _her_. 

“W-What?” She stuttered out, certain she heard wrong. There was no way any monster would want to adopt her, there were just so many better Readers than her. And he said he liked art better, right? Why not adopt that other Reader who liked landscapes as much as he did?  


The skeleton’s cheekbones lit up in a rainbow again. “W-Well, I know we didn’t really get a chance to talk much and we don’t really know much about each other but I think you’d make a great companion. Oh, that sounds kind of bad, doesn’t it? Sorry! Uh, if you don’t want to be adopted by me I get it, I, um, don’t know if I’d want to get adopted either. This whole thing is kind of weird to me. I’ve never tried adopting a sentient creature. Why are you guys even up for adoption? Oh boy, that brings up some questions, doesn’t it?” The monster rambled, magic steadily rising higher in his cheeks as he looked around the shelter.  


“No, no! It’s okay! I just, um, guess I don’t have experience in being adopted either? You would think I would know a little more about it but everyone I see adopted just kind of… leaves.” The Reader said, her own cheeks heating in embarrassment at the misunderstanding. “I, um” She looked down at the ground as the skeleton looked back at her. “I wouldn’t mind being adopted by you though. I just, um…” _don’t know why you would want me…_

She shook her head and looked back up at the skeleton, twiddling her thumbs. “If you still want me I’d be happy to be your Reader.”  


A wide smile broke out over the skeleton monster’s face and the artistic Reader looked hastily away, cheeks heating again. “Well” A skeletal hand lowered itself into the pen and laid on the ground, open and waiting patiently. “What do you say we break you out of this joint?” 

The Reader looked up, shocked once again, to see the skeleton smiling kindly back at her. She looked down at his hand, he had brown fingerless gloves covering most of the bones in his hand, only his fingers white and skeletal and hard looking. Maybe the glove helped make his hand more comfortable.  


The Reader hesitated, staring at the open palm. Once she accepted it, her life would change forever, hopefully in a good way, but the uncertainty of what lay ahead, of how she was supposed to live anywhere but at the adoption center, made her worried.  


She stepped up to the skeleton’s hand and carefully climbed on. His skeletal fingers closed lightly around her and she grasped his thumb to keep herself steady as he lifted her up. It was as hard as she expected, but his hand was surprisingly warm and the glove helped soften the bones a little. The Reader noticed that she wasn’t quite as high up as when the owner of the shelter carried her, but it was still much higher than any Reader could reach on their own unless they climbed up something tall.  


“Find the perfect Reader?” Rivethart asked, smiling as Ink walked up to the counter, watching the purple sweatered Reader in his hand like he feared she might fall off at any moment. The skeleton looked up, eye lights bright blue stars in his sockets and a wide smile on his teeth as he nodded. Rivethart noticed the Reader in his hand flush as he set her down and she buried her face in her small sweater. 

“I’m happy for you, dear.” The deer monster said, smiling at the Reader who only blushed harder. Rivethart looked back up to Ink who was watching the little Reader in wonder. 

“So” He looked back at the owner. “If you are serious about adopting this Reader I’m going to need you to fill out some paperwork. It shouldn’t take too long, it’s just to make sure every Reader we adopt out goes to a good home.” Ink nodded at this and Rivethart smiled again, rummaging under the counter and pulling out a number of different papers.  


“A name?” The skeleton questioned aloud, staring at the sheet of paper and tapping the counter with the pen the deer monster had given him to fill out the papers with. He hummed and looked down at the purple sweatered Reader who was staring off into space, looking to be in thought. He looked back to the paper and smiled, scribbling something down and continuing on down the sheet.  


After all was said and done, some items being purchased and more packets on Readers being given to the skeleton monster as well as the Reader’s belongings from her home getting added to the small bag of things for Ink to bring home, Ink held out his hand for his Reader. She climbed on with a smile and he transferred her to his shoulder, earning a soft ‘oh’. 

She found she was the most comfortable right near his neck, a dip in his clavicle making for a good spot to sit and his scarf big enough to bury herself under multiple times over. She only covered her lower body though, using the scarf to keep herself on the skeleton’s shoulder.  


A few Readers called out goodbyes to the purple sweatered Reader. She returned them and her new owner smiled as he left the store, the bell jingling above them.


End file.
